


Chance Meeting

by EDM4276



Series: Taking Chances [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EDM4276/pseuds/EDM4276
Summary: What if Olivia and Rafael met in season two?
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Series: Taking Chances [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795351
Comments: 26
Kudos: 139





	1. Chapter 1

Olivia collapsed into a chair at an anonymous Brooklyn bar. Why she was in Brooklyn she couldn’t say, except that she’d needed to be somewhere where she definitely wouldn’t run into any of her mother’s old college friends, or, for that matter, any of her own colleagues. They meant well, and had been amazingly supportive, but Olivia needed breathing room. She wasn’t sure she could take any more stories about how amazing and perfect and talented her mother had been, or any more of Elliot’s worried glances in her direction. Serena Benson had been all of those things, but none of her mother’s college professor friends had known what happened behind closed doors. The drinking binges, the throwing up, the events she had missed out on throughout Olivia’s childhood, the unreliability. Leaving Olivia at school after evening practice or rehearsal. The broken wine glasses in the kitchen the next morning. The jagged shard heading towards her…drawing in a sharp breath, she forced herself to not go down that road. Not tonight. 

“Can I get you something?” The bartender asked. 

“Cabernet, please,” she handed over her card, “Leave it open.” 

“Coming right up,” the bartender eyed her cautiously. His establishment was a more upmarket one - near the courthouse, so it mainly catered to lawyers or cops. Neither party took a drunken mess at the bar kindly, and this women looked like she could end up that way. 

Olivia glanced at him as he poured, seemingly figuring out what he was thinking, “Don’t worry,” she sighed, “I’m a cop. I’m not going to cause you any trouble.” 

“Uh, sorry,” he said, seemingly embarrassed, “Just, you know, lots of cops and lawyers in here after court. It’s around the corner,” he gestured vaguely.

“Oh. I’m based in Manhattan at the 16th. Just needed a break for an evening,” she said. He placed the wine glass in front of her. 

“Enjoy,” he smiled. Court must have just adjourned, because the bar started filling up. Olivia glanced at her watch - sure enough, 5:00. Someone bumped into her slightly as he took the stool next to hers. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. 

“No worries,” she said, not looking over at him but staring into her glass instead. Her bartender friend put a Scotch in front of her new seat mate without being asked, who was obviously a regular.

She looked up finally, in time to see him loosen the top two buttons of his shirt, and let out a breath, taking a small sip of scotch. 

She put her glass back down on the table, contemplated him. He had dark wavy hair and sparkling green eyes. A mischievous smirk on his face. He was arrogant, but, Olivia thought, there was more to it than that. He had a past. A strong jaw, determined, set face. 

“Long day?” She asked. 

“Oh, no more so than usual. You?” 

She shrugged into her glass, “I buried my mother.” 

“Oh. Wow. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged again, “She was an alcoholic. Our relationship was…complicated.” She didn’t know why it was easier to bare her soul to this stranger than to her partner, or any of her friends. She snorted to herself. What friends? Since joining SVU she hadn’t exactly made any effort to keep in touch with her friends from college, or reconnect with friends from high school when she’d moved back to the city. 

He looked sympathetic, understanding. Not pitying, she thought with relief, not even understanding, “Alcohol complicates everything, right?” He asked, contemplating his own glass. 

“Overuse of it does anyway,” Olivia agreed, swirling her wine before sipping again. 

“Want to talk about it?” He asked. 

“Unload my soul to a stranger at the bar? How cliche of me. No, but thank you for asking.” 

“Anytime. Rafael Barba, by the way. ADA. Brooklyn Courthouse. There you go, I’m not a stranger anymore.” 

She smiled, despite herself, “Detective Olivia Benson. Manhattan Special Victims Unit, 16th Precinct.”

“Nice to meet you, Olivia.”

“And you, Rafael.” She smiled again, looked into her empty glass, and held it up when the bartender looked in her direction. 

“One more, please,” she requested, “And one of whatever he’s having, if he wants it.” 

He smiled in acknowledgement, “Thanks,” he added when his refilled glass arrived. 

He tipped it against hers, “To your Mom,” he said, and she managed a smile.

She contemplated the man on the stool next to her. He wasn’t the type she’d usually go for. There was nothing macho about him, but he was…alluring in his calmness. His kindness. Though, something about the mischief in his eyes told her he wouldn’t back down from a fight either.  
“So what’s your story, Rafael?” She asked curiously. 

“The Bronx to Harvard to Brooklyn Courthouse,” he shrugged, “It’s a story.” 

She whistled, “Definitely is. How’d that happen?” 

He shrugged, “I was tenacious. Stayed late at school to avoid going home. Camped out in the library. Looked for the next ticket out of The Bronx, and it arrived in the form of a full scholarship to Harvard.” 

“Wow. Must have been rough though, a kid from the Bronx wining and dining.” 

“It was, at first. I learned to fit in. I never really fit in in the Bronx either,” he gave her a somewhat self deprecating smile, which immediately made her want to tease out more. She got the feeling he didn’t share that part of his story readily. 

“Not fitting in is rough in high school,” she stated, trying to show him the same courtesy - no pity. 

“Yep,” he said, “I had a small group of good friends, so that helped. You want another of those?” He asked, gesturing at her nearly empty wine glass. 

“Over dinner?” She threw out.

“Sure. Not here though. I know a great restaurant a few blocks away?” 

“Okay,” Olivia said. Their bartender appeared again and she paid her tab. 

“Have a good night,” he told her, winking. She smiled. 

“So where to?” Olivia asked as he opened the door for her and they stepped out onto the street. 

“Do you like Latin American food?” He asked. 

“Uh, I’ve had Mexican…” she said, “I like that.” 

“You should like Latin American then. The restaurant’s a ten minute walk, is that okay?” 

“No problem,” she said. They fell into step, and she enjoyed walking in a part of the city she was less familiar with. Brooklyn was definitely up and coming, she thought as they walked. Lots of shiny new business windows flashed by them as they passed, and Olivia saw plenty of “SOLD” signs on apartments. 

“Times are changing around here,” Olivia commented. 

“Yeah,” Rafael agreed, “Certain members of the community aren’t thrilled about it. It’s keeping the courts busy.” 

“I bet,” she said, then she steered the conversation away from work, “So what does a Harvard grad turned ADA do for fun?” 

Rafael laughed, “You mean when he’s not pulling all nighters at the office?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I used to sail. Haven’t really done much since I moved back to the city though. Uh…Skiing, in the winter.”

She laughed, “So you hang out with the Harvard crowd, huh?” 

“Honestly, I haven’t been doing much hanging out with anyone since I got the ADA job. I go to the gym, and I play ultimate frisbee on Saturday morning. What about you detective, what do you do to wind down?” 

“Wind down? What does that mean?” Olivia asked, thinking for a minute. 

“I go out for drinks with friends from work. ADA friends too. Try to date. The job usually prevents that though.”

“Huh. So we’re both workaholics.” 

“One thing we have in common, I guess,” Olivia laughed 

He opened the door into the restaurant for her, and was greeted with his name by a stout woman with a smiling face whom Olivia assumed must be the owner. 

“Rafi! Come in, come in, and you brought a friend - it’s about time. Here, sit,” she led them to a booth in the corner of the restaurant at the window. It was slightly early for dinner yet, so the place hadn’t filled up, but Olivia could already tell by the atmosphere and general hustle of a restaurant before service that it was popular, and would be full, even in the middle of the week. 

“Thank you, Marquita. This is my friend Olivia. She’s a detective in Manhattan.” 

“Ah, a work friend, then. Nice to meet you, Olivia.” Olivia smiled and returned the sentiment. 

Olivia noted that Marquita didn’t bring them menus, “It changes daily,” Rafael explained, “So she posts it on the board at the front. Do you mind if I order for us both? What would you like to drink? I highly recommend the Sangria.” 

“Go ahead and order,” Olivia said, “I’m not fussy, and I don’t have any allergies. Sangria sounds perfect.” 

“Perfect,” Rafael said, “I’ll be back in a minute.” He was at the counter before Olivia realized he would probably pay there too, and tried to get his attention, gesturing to her wallet. 

He waved her away, mouthing “I’ve got this,” so she rolled her eyes at him but smiled, and sat back in her chair, staring out of the window. Her phone distracted her by bleeping, so she glanced at it to check the message. 

“Just stopped by. Are you ok? Let me know or I’ll send out an alert.” She rolled her eyes again. Elliot. And he probably would send out an alert. 

“I’m fine. Having dinner with a friend. See you tomorrow.” 

“You have friends?” He shot back immediately. 

“Ha, ha. Go home to your family, Elliot. See you tomorrow.” She snapped the phone shut. 

Olivia stared out of the window while she waited for her dinner-mate to return. He finally managed to extract himself from a conversation with the guy manning the counter and returned to their table. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, “Eduardo’s an old friend.” 

“No worries. I thought you grew up in the bronx?” 

“I did. So did he. They opened this place around the same time I started at the DA’s office, so I used to come here all the time…it was comforting. Homey. Where I’d come to relax after a long day, or pick up take out from to bring back and work some more.” 

“The American Dream, huh?” 

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s a real family affair. Marquita’s his mom. His grandmother and aunts do the cooking, his Dad runs the books with Eduardo when he’s not working his other job. His sisters wait tables, but they’re at college too.” 

“Amazing,” Olivia said, impressed. 

“Yeah. They struck lucky when property prices in Brooklyn were so low after they redeveloped it,” Rafael finished, as their drinks arrived. 

“Thanks, Lisa,” he said. 

“De nada,” she replied, then, in Spanish, “She’s beautiful, Rafi.” Olivia smiled into her drink, and Rafael rolled her eyes at the other girl. 

“I’m guessing you understand enough Spanish to know what that means,” Rafael observed, noting the smirk on Olivia’s face. 

“I speak it fluently,” Olivia admitted, “Along with Italian and French.” 

“Whoa. Renaissance woman. Impressive.” 

Olivia shrugged, “I liked to avoid home too. And languages always came easily.” She took a long gulp of the refreshing drink, already eyeing the pitcher on the table between them, but knowing she should have some water. Chips and salsa appeared at their table, and Olivia gladly selected a chip to dip into the salsa, suddenly hungry. 

“You can talk about her if you want,” Rafael said softly, “Or not.” 

“Our relationship was complicated,” Olivia admitted quietly. She then launched into the whole story - somehow knowing that this man, who’d been a stranger a few hours ago, would understand. And he did. He didn’t pity her, or offer empty sympathetic words, or share his own stories, just listened. When the food came, he made her laugh telling her stories about himself learning to make the various dishes with his own Cuban grandmother. It was all delicious, and they finished the single pitcher between them, drinking their last glass slowly, watching as the restaurant around them got busy and loud, then quieter towards the end of service. Finally, it was obviously near closing, and they stepped outside. 

“Ice cream?” He asked, “There’s an amazing place around the corner. Homemade.” Neither were ready to say goodbye yet. 

“Oh, God, twist my arm,” she agreed easily, stretching, “But I’m buying.” He nodded easily. They found a bench to eat their cones, mostly in companionable silence. The ice cream was rich and creamy. Olivia finished her single scoop, glad she hadn’t allowed Rafael to goad her into getting more. 

“That was perfect,” she tossed the paper from the cone into the trash can next to their bench/

“Told you you’d want more,” he commented mildly. 

“It was just right,” she argued back, smiling. 

“So, Olivia,” he said as he finished his last bite, “Think we could do this again sometimes?” 

She smiled at him, and nodded, “Yeah. Yeah I think we could.” He grinned. Not smirked, actually grinned.


	2. Dinner and Drinks, Manhattan Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia and Rafa meet for drinks again, this time in Manhattan.

The next morning, Olivia showed up at work despite being ordered to stay away. 

“My office,” her captain commanded, eyeing her closely. 

“Captain, I’m fine. Please. I need to work…” she trailed off, “otherwise I’ll get too stuck inside my own head.” 

“Okay, Olivia. If you can’t keep up your head in the game, though…” She nodded, understanding. If she couldn’t keep it together he’d bench her. She stepped back into the bullpen and sat down at her own desk. There was a coffee waiting for her, and she looked around for Elliot. He appeared from the filing room. 

“Wanted to look over these because I think they link to that rapist from last night,” Elliot said, handing her one of the files.” She nodded, held up the coffee, and smiled slightly at him, “Thanks for this.” 

“You’re welcome. I looked for you last night.” 

“Yeah, sorry. I went out. Needed a break.” He gave her a once over. She didn’t look hungover. 

She smiled, knowing what he was doing, “I didn’t get drunk, Elliot.” 

“Okay, okay. What did you do?” 

“Ended up meeting a friend at the bar. Went to dinner.” 

“Hmmm. Sounds fun. Does this friend have a name?” 

“Yeah, and that would be none of your business, El,” She smiled at him and they went back to their files. 

Work was the usual crazy. Rapists didn’t stop, after all, because one of the SVU detective’s mothers had died. The crazy was good though. Olivia found herself leaning into it, staying late, determined to track them down, meanwhile, working on her mother’s case. Her father. Elliot wasn’t thrilled about that. He thought she was setting herself up for more anger and disappointment. And he was probably right. 

“You finishing up for the night?” Elliot asked her as he packed his own stuff up. 

“Uh, yeah, soon,” she said absentmindedly, glancing at her phone as it beeped with a message. She flipped it open to read. 

“Want to meet for drinks? Had to stop by the courthouse in Manhattan for an arraignment, so I’m closer to you.” It was from Rafael. She grinned, and typed out a reply. They'd managed a quick coffee one morning when he'd had to be in Manhattan for work. 

“Yeah. I’m on my way out of the precinct. I’ll meet you in front of the courthouse in 20?” 

“Sure. See you soon.” 

“Okay. I’m leaving,” Olivia said, gathering her stuff. 

“Need a ride?” Elliot asked as they walked out. Olivia pondered. The courthouse was on his way home to Queens, but did she really want to give Elliot the fodder? Not yet. 

“Nah, I need the exercise. Thanks though. Have a good evening, El.” she smiled, and headed for the door to the outside world while Elliot went in the opposite direction to the parking area behind the building. 

She found Rafael sitting on a bench in front of the courthouse, soaking up the last rays of sunshine. It had truly warmed up that afternoon for the first time in awhile, so he had taken his jacket off and his shirtsleeves were loose. 

“Hi,” she said, smiling at him. 

“Hey,” he shaded his eyes against the sun. He got up, kissed her cheek, “Have a good day?” 

“Oh, you know. Chased rapists. The usual. It was okay, though. You?” 

“Caught a bad guy. The usual,” he smirked at her and she laughed.  
“Where were you thinking for drinks?” 

“There’s a place around the corner. Bar with good food. You hungry?” 

“Always,” she grinned. 

They found a quiet booth, and he got drinks and menus. She found herself relaxing for the first time in far too long. He was so easy to talk to. He understood what she dealt with day to day at work. He didn’t push her to talk, or expect her to pretend it didn’t exist as part of her daily existence. He listened. Not always without judgment, she soon realized, but he only offered his opinions when she asked. They often didn’t see eye to eye, but as the evening wore on, she found herself appreciating their differences in opinion almost more than anything else. He challenged her to see things from someone else’s perspective. 

“So you don’t think the guy did it?” Olivia contemplated, finishing off her burger. 

“I wasn’t there, Liv, and I haven’t been investigating it. I’m just saying that given his background, and his relationship to her, it seems unlikely. Is there anyone else in her life?” 

“We don’t know. We’ve checked, but I do get the feeling we’re missing something,” Olivia contemplated, trailing off. 

“Might be worth checking into further then…” he mused, swiping one of the last fries from the basket they shared. 

“Sorry,” she apologized, “I didn’t mean to talk about work the whole time.” 

“You didn’t, the whole time. And it’s okay,” he smiled. They paid - she insisted on splitting the bill this time, and headed out into the night. He opened the door for her, placed a hand on the small of her back. She leant into it, enjoying the touch. 

“Want to walk for a bit?” He asked, rubbing his hand up and down her back.

“Sure. My apartment’s about twenty minutes from here,” she said, turning them in that direction, “I have coffee.” 

“Coffee sounds good.” 

“No euphemisms, Rafa. Just coffee,” she said, leaning in closer, wrapping her arm around his waist as they walked. She realized her actions and words weren’t exactly lining up, but she thought he would understand what she meant. She wanted the comfort, the companionship, the talking, for tonight - nothing more. 

“Okay, Olivia. Just coffee. Understood,” he gave her one of his real smiles. His hand was by his side, and she picked it up with the hand that was around his waist, linked their fingers together, squeezed. She released him when they arrived at her building, and led him up to her 4th floor apartment. 

“It’s not clean,” she warned him before she opened the door. He followed her in to a homey, lived in space. A hoody slung over the back of the sofa, this morning’s breakfast dishes left in the sink, orange peel on the cutting board. 

Olivia set the coffee maker on and it lurched into action. As water started dripping through the filter, she opened the door to the refrigerator. Checked the date on the milk, smelled it, “Still good,” she said, placing the jug next to the coffee. She then rustled around in the cupboard for sugar. 

“I don’t take sugar,” Rafael told her. 

She sighed with relief, “Good. Neither do I. I wasn’t sure I’d have any.” They leant against the counter while the machine dripped. 

She led him over to the couch and he sat against one of the arms. She snuggled into his side, and he put an arm around her waist. She sighed, leaning into him. 

“So, Liv,” she smiled at the use of the nickname. 

“Sorry, I guess I should have asked…” 

“About the nickname? I don’t mind. I was never Liv until I joined SVU, then my partner started using it, and it kind of stuck.” 

“Partner? Oh, you mean at work…” he trailed off again. He was usually sharper than this, but it was so relaxing, sitting on the couch with her, no pretenses, no expectations, just being. 

“Yeah. He’s a pain in the ass 75% of the time, but we get the job done. Anyway, what were you saying?” She asked, not really wanting to get into a detailed conversation about work again. 

“Yeah. Cards on the table. Or, some of them. Is that okay?” 

“Sure. What cards?” 

“I think we could have something here…I’d really like to give us a go, Liv.”

She tensed a little, and he felt it, “You mean, like a relationship?” She asked quietly. 

“Well, maybe it’s early days for that but….dating? Exclusively?” 

“I don’t date in-exclusively,” she mumbled quietly, “In fact, I usually don’t date at all, beyond one. The job usually gets in the way.” 

“Hasn’t scared me away yet, and we’re about to finish #3,” he said, starting the rubbing motion again, this time on her arms. 

“Yeah,” she sighed, “But we’ve been lucky, so far, that the job hasn’t gotten in the way.” 

“What are you really scared of, Liv?” 

She sighed again and turned slightly, facing him, sitting cross legged on the couch, “The last time I was in a serious relationship I was 16. He was a student of my mom’s. He was 21.” 

“Statutory…” Rafael began. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But hear me out. Things were so bad at home that when he proposed, I accepted. And I told my mom I was going to leave,” Olivia shuddered, “She was furious. Threatened to get him kicked out of school. So I left. Got myself a child advocacy lawyer - actually she was a law student at the time - but between us, we got me out. It was only recently I started reconnecting with my mother.” 

Rafael sighed, “Wow. Who was the lawyer?” 

Olivia laughed, “Of all the questions you could ask, it would be that one. Simone Bryce.” 

“Damn. She’s good.” 

“She fought for me.”

“I’ve been up against her a few times. She’s won each time,” he admitted ruefully. He squeezed her hand where it lay resting on his chest, “Wow, Liv. That’s quite a story. So…would you be interested in trying again? Dating, I mean?” He added for emphasis. 

She let out a breath. She’d never told anyone else that story, “Yeah. Yeah, we could try dating. You know the worst stuff anyway, and it hasn’t put you off yet.” 

“Mmm,” he said, gathering her up from the couch, “It will take much more than that to put me off you. But now, I’m going to bow out and say I’ll see you this weekend?” 

“Yeah. I get off at seven on Friday, assuming…”

“Assuming you don’t catch a case. Got it. You like the theater?” 

She smiled, “I prefer musicals. But the theater works too.” 

He winced, trying to cover it up, and Olivia laughed, “I won’t hold that against you.” 

She walked him to the door, and he wrapped his arms around her. She kissed him lightly, but felt it all the way down to her toes. He let it last a little longer before letting her go, “Night, Liv. Sweet dreams.”


	3. Important Meeting, Part 1

Olivia and Rafael settled into a routine. They’d see each other a few nights a week, and on weekends. Pretty soon, weekends were spent at one or the other’s apartment, at least, until Olivia got called in for work. Until this particular Sunday, Olivia had been able to avoid Elliot finding out how she was spending her weekends. She didn’t know why she didn’t want him to know she was in a serious relationship (or, well, as serious as a relationship had ever been for her), but she knew she didn’t want to deal with his questions or the tension it would inevitably add to their work partnership when he finally found out. He knew she was seeing someone, and he dropped hints continually about “meeting her new friend,” but Olivia had so far been able to put him off. 

Olivia and Rafael were taking the first step towards turning dating into a relationship today, and Olivia was nervous enough about it without adding thoughts of her partner into the mix. She felt her stomach flutter with nerves as she woke up to bright sunlight streaming through Rafael’s bedroom window. She turned once more, trying to find a comfortable place to settle and catch another few minutes of sleep. 

“Liv,” Rafa mumbled, “It’s too early. Go back to sleep.”

“Can’t,” she mumbled, “I’ll go make some tea, let you sleep.” 

“Liv,” he said, bringing her closer to him, awake now, “Calm down. You need to sleep. I said we didn’t have to do this if you’re not ready or don’t want to for any reason. I’ll cancel. Make up some excuse.” 

“No,” she said quickly, “No, I want to…I just…Ugh, sorry,” she felt the tears prick the corner of her eyes, and swiped at them impatiently. 

“Liv, you buried your Mom less than six months ago,” he said, sitting up in bed and bringing her close to him, “If you’re not ready to meet mine yet, that’s completely understandable.” 

“But you want me to meet her,” she said. 

“I want her to know how amazing you are, and how happy you make me,” he kissed her shoulder, “but neither of those things will change if you aren’t ready to meet her yet. Now,” he swung his legs from under the covers, carefully making sure she was still wrapped up in the duvet, “I’m going to go make us both some tea.” 

She snuggled back into the covers, listening to him root around in the kitchen. He’d started buying her tea when she started spending the weekends in Brooklyn. She found she appreciated the reprise from Manhattan life, the chance to explore a new place, almost as much as she loved exploring their relationship. She couldn’t deny that it was a relationship now. The past five and a half months had been the happiest times of her life, and she was just now getting to the point where she stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. She sighed, knowing she needed to meet Rafael’s mother. She wanted to prove to both herself and him that she was taking their relationship seriously. She was in it for the long haul. He reappeared in the doorway then, a cup of tea in each hand. She smiled to herself. She was slowly convincing him to drink less coffee. 

“I don’t want to be awake fully yet,” he explained, reading her mind. So they sipped, and talked quietly. They finished at the same time, and Rafael pulled her back into his arms murmuring, “Do you think you can sleep a bit now?” 

“Yeah,” she mumbled through a yawn. 

They woke up again, in time to dress and get ready for 11:00 Mass. Despite Rafael’s repeated reassurances that it being a regular Sunday, dressing up wasn’t required, Olivia insisted that she needed to look her best to meet his mother. He could understand that, so after dressing in one of his more understated outfits - slacks and a neatly pressed button down shirt, collar open, he made himself comfortable in the chair next to the big bay window in his living room, reading through the morning paper, while she finished getting ready. 

Olivia appeared in a soft baby blue dress, A line, with a shallow V neck. She wore pearls in her ears and a pearl necklace to complete the outfit. Her makeup was understated, as usual. As Rafael always thought, she didn’t need it. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said. 

“Looking pretty dapper yourself,” she told him, “Let’s do this.” 

It was sunny and warm outside so Rafael parked at the first spot he found, a few blocks away from the church his Mother attended for Mass. Rafael’s Mass attendance was sparse at best, more so since meeting Olivia, so he knew his Mom was excited about today for more than one reason. 

He led Olivia to their usual pew, allowing her a moment to stop to admire the stained glass windows at the front and along the sides of the gracious church. The light was perfect for showing them off at their best, and though Rafi was used to it, he had to admit that seeing them through new eyes was special. His mother was kneeling in prayer, so he slipped in next to her, Olivia on his other side. The organ music was flowing lightly, and people slowly trickling in. Catholics, he thought wryly, habitually late for Mass. Some things never changed. It was 10:50 and the church was barely half full, but he knew it would be packed by the end of the first hymn. This was the busiest of the Holy Day Masses, which started on Saturday evening at five. Rafael smiled to himself as he remembered being a teenager and begging his mother to consider the Saturday Mass so he could sleep in on Sunday, to no avail. He sighed contentedly, willing to admit that he missed the childhood ritual of Sunday Mass, as he ran his hand lightly down Olivias arm, squeezing her fingers lightly. She squeezed back. 

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. 

“It is,” he said, “I definitely didn’t appreciate it as a kid.” 

“Mmm. We often don’t appreciate beauty as a kid,” she contemplated. She was thinking of her partner. She often wondered how Elliot kept his faith so strongly through the hell they faced daily at work. Being here, in this beautiful place, she already felt more at peace with herself and the world, made her understand her partner’s complexities more easily than before.

Mrs. Barba sat back in her seat, and her son kissed her on the cheek in greeting, “Hola, Mami,” he said quietly. 

“Mom, this is Olivia,” he introduced them, “Olivia, my mother, Lucia.” 

“Lovely to meet you at last,” Lucia said, shaking her hand, squeezing. Her eyes were warm, Olivia noted, and lightly green, twinkling in a way that reminded Olivia of Rafael. They showed strength and determination through a life lived that wasn’t always easy. 

“Has Rafael shown you the order of service?” Lucia asked. Olivia shook her head, and his mother rolled her eyes at him. 

“Here,” she said, flipping through the hymnal until the end and showing Olivia where to follow along, “Then the hymn numbers are listed there,” she pointed to the board, “And you can use this to mark the place for the order of service when you flip to the hymns,” she handed Olivia a card with a saint on the front, and a prayer on the back, “It’s St. Francis,” she said, “The prayer of peace. One of my favorites.” 

Olivia sat quietly for a moment, reading the words. She hadn’t been brought up as anything particularly, though she had been baptized Episcopal. When her mother had been sober they’d gone to church on Christmas Eve, but that had been it. 

“It’s beautiful,” she said. 

“Yes. St. Francis had a way with words,” Lucia winked at her, and they all grew quiet as the welcoming announcements began. 

Olivia followed the order of service easily enough, and found herself enjoying the rhythm of the Mass, and the words of the homily. There was challenge, and there was comfort. She listened to the words of the Nicene Creed at the end of the homily, and mumbled “hear our prayer,” during the Prayers of the People. She, surprising herself as much as Rafael, joined him to receive a blessing during communion. 

The blessing given, and the last song sang, they waited as the people in the rows ahead of them filed out of the church. Lucia greeted the priest while Olivia and Rafael waited off to the side after thanking him. He had an arm loosely around her, and she leant against him. 

“It was…peaceful,” she said. 

“Yeah. It is,” he agreed, rubbing her shoulder up and down, “I was surprised you went up for a blessing.”

“So I was I,” she admitted, “I honestly can’t remember the last time I went to church of any kind. But I’d go again.” 

“Well, that will thrill my mother,” he said, smiling as Lucia joined them. 

“You have a nice singing voice,” she complimented Olivia. 

“Thanks,” Olivia said, “Though I’m nothing compared to your son.” 

“Oh, I know. His abeulita will only forgive him for not singing in the Opera when he becomes a judge,” Lucia said, and Olivia laughed. 

“Oh I don’t know. A full academic scholarship to Harvard is nothing to snark at,” she said, squeezing his hand as they started walking. 

“Thank you, Liv,” he kissed her on the cheek, “But you’d better watch it, otherwise my ego won’t fit through the door.” 

Rafael had found a new brunch restaurant not far from their church. It was “Modern American - classics with a twist,” as stated on the advertising board outside. The restaurant sat on an edge of the Bronx’s main park, and had a patio overlooking the grass, so they took the last seat outside. 

“Good thing Mami didn’t get pulled into her usual post Mass hour debriefing session,” Rafael told Olivia as they were seated. 

“Don’t be rude, Rafi,” Lucia reprimanded him lightly as she took a menu from the waitress. 

Conversation was light as they chose their meals. Olivia enjoyed hearing lighthearted stories of Rafael’s childhood, though she knew it hadn’t all been sunshine and daisies. She found Lucia’s work at a new charter school interesting, and enjoyed listening to her plans for fundraising and expanding the school’s offerings to give Bronx children a fair leg up in the world. 

“We would love to have you and your unit give us a talk,” Lucia said. 

“We would enjoy that,” Olivia smiled to herself. Elliot was better at those things than she was. 

Brunch over, they stood outside the restaurant, the sun beating down on the sidewalk. Olivia could feel her makeup melting off. It had warmed up quickly as the afternoon wore on. 

“It was good to see you, Rafi,” Lucia gave her son a hug, and he kissed her on the cheek, “and I’m so glad I got to meet you, Olivia.” To Olivia’s surprise, she received a hug too. 

“You too,” Olivia said into the other woman’s shoulder as they hugged. Lucia gave her a final squeeze, then let go. 

Lucia headed in the opposite direction to her apartment, which was only a few blocks away. Rafael and Olivia walked back to his car, ready to get out of the sun.


	4. Important Meeting, Part 2

Olivia’s phone rang as Rafael was pulling onto his street, searching for a space. 

“Liv, we got a call,” it was Elliot. He gave her the address. It was on the Brooklyn side of Manhattan. Olivia sighed, “Okay. I’ll meet you there,” she said. 

“Work?” Rafael asked her, pulling over into a bus stop. 

“Work,” she said, sighing. She’d been looking forward to a relaxed Sunday afternoon with him, “Do you mind dropping me off? The crime scene’s not far.” 

“Sure. In those clothes?” 

Olivia winced, looking at her baby blue dress, purchased especially for the occasion, “Yeah. It’ll have to be. Elliot will beat us there if he’s at the office.” 

“I’ll stop by your place after I drop you off, bring you clothes to the precinct, if you want,” he said. 

“Yeah,” Olivia was trying to remember if she had a change of clothes in her locker. She didn’t think she did. 

He reached over, squeezed her hand as they waited in Sunday afternoon traffic to get over the bridge into Manhattan, “Means I’ll probably run into Elliot…” he said. 

“Yeah,” Olivia sighed, “Yeah, I know. I guess it’s time.”

“What makes you nervous about it?” He asked, easing the car into gear as he followed the traffic in front of him. 

“Just…El can be kind of an asshole,” she said, “So don’t take everything he says to heart, okay?” 

“You think I can’t hold my own?” He asked, trying to lighten her mood. 

“Oh, I know you can. But…I want you guys to get along. He’s my work partner, but also my best friend. One of my only friends.” 

“We’ll get along, Liv, because it’s important to you, and we both care about you.” 

“Hmm,” Olivia said, lost in her thoughts, trying to refocus her brain on work. She managed a small smile, trying to show him she did want him to meet her best friend. She knew it was an important step in a real relationship. Rafael seemed to realize Olivia needed the quiet, so focussed on driving, listening to her directions to get to the crime scene.

“I’ll see you at the 16th,” he said. He had keys to her apartment. 

“Call me before you leave, just incase we have to go to Mercy or something,” she told him, watching the scene in front of her. Elliot was waving her over, having seen the car pull up to the alley. He was standing in between two dumpsters, where CSI techs were moving around trash. Olivia sighed, hoping this wouldn’t be complicated. They’d had too many of those recently. 

“I love you,” Rafael said. She leant over, kissed him, “Love you too.” 

“Be careful,” he squeezed her hand, then let her go. 

“Woooooow,” Elliot whistled, “That dress is way too nice for this scene, Liv,” he watched as the driver of the Mercedes turned the car around in the alley. He knew the guy from somewhere, racking his brains trying to figure it out. 

“Yeah, well. I’ll change later,” Olivia said impatiently. She knew Elliot had watched their exchange before she got out of the car, but they’d get to it after the crime scene. Elliot nodded, walking her through it. 

“Girl found in between these dumpsters. High as a kite, barely sober. Her pulse was faint, so the homeless guy who found her,” Elliot gestured to the man sitting in the squad car parked at the opposite end of the short alley to where Rafael had pulled up, “told a patrolman. He called it in.” 

“And you were in on a Sunday…why?” She asked. They hadn’t been on call. 

“Pulling overtime,” Elliot said vaguely, “Had some paperwork to catch up on.” 

“Hmmm. So,” she looked around, “No windows up there. What are these buildings?” They were on the edge of the warehouse district. 

“Warehouses. Out of use. Flood damage,” Elliot said, “Clubs and bars a few blocks over though.” 

“Right. So we probably need to canvas.” Elliot nodded, waved the patrolman over. 

“Any news on when the vic will wake up?” Olivia asked. 

“Not yet. Let’s get to the hospital after we talk to him,” Elliot instructed the patrolman to gather some other officers and talk to the clubs and bars nearest the alley to ask if there had been any trouble the previous evening. 

“Okay, Mercy for us,” he said to his partner, leading her to the sedan he’d driven over in. 

“Soooo,” Elliot said, “You’re looking awfully fancy for a Sunday. Especially for someone who doesn’t go to church.” 

“Who says I didn’t go to church?” She responded as he pulled out into the waning late Sunday afternoon traffic. 

“Does this have something to do with your mystery man?” Elliot guessed. 

“Rafael Barba,” she finally gave in, “His family is Catholic. His Mom goes to church.”

“So it’s serious enough that you met his Mom? And I haven’t met him yet?” He asked, a little affronted. 

“Yeah, well. I was…getting there…” Olivia trailed off, “I’m not as brave as Rafa is.”

“You’re scared of introducing him to me?” Elliot asked. 

“You don’t exactly react well when I date, El.”

“Yeah, Liv. Date. It makes me nervous - you meeting random men all over the city. Yes, yes, I know you can take care of yourself, and I know you’re not my daughter. But you’re my partner, and I care about you. This, though, this is a relationship. Not just dating, right?’ She shook her head, “So yeah, I want to meet him. And I’ll be nice. Even though he is a lawyer.”

“How’d you figure that out?” She asked, deciding to put aside the rest for later. 

“I remembered where I’d heard his name. He’s an ADA in Brooklyn, right?”

“Yeah…” Olivia trailed off. Elliot pulled into the parking lot in front of Mercy Hospital’s ER. It was usually reserved for emergency vehicles, but their police tags got them a spot. Olivia had texted Rafael, letting him know where they would be. 

Elliot asked for the Jane Doe who had come in, and the nurse manning triage pointed in the direction of a surgery bay. 

“Severe concussion and broken neck, we think from a fall,” the nurse reported. The two detectives sat outside, waiting for a doctor to appear. 

“Assuming it’s been since last night…why has no one reported her missing? Figured out where she is?” Olivia pondered. 

“Maybe they have,” Elliot trailed off. We need to do a more thorough check of MisPer reports. He had called into MisPer while waiting for Olivia to arrive on the scene, but he hadn’t really been able to give enough detail, having barely caught a glimpse of the victim before EMS arrived. 

“It’s going to be a few hours,” the doctor told them, “Then she’ll probably sleep through the night.”

“Can we at least look at her?” Elliot asked, wanting to get a better description for the MisPer report. 

“One of you. Quickly,” the doctor agreed. Elliot went, Olivia sat back on the hard hospital seat in the wide, sparkling clean hallway. 

“Liv,” She heard Rafael’s familiar voice coming towards her before turning her head to see him. He was holding one of her grocery totes, presumably containing a change of clothes. 

“Here,” he said, “And shoes too,” he handed her a pair of black flats. 

“Thanks, Raf,” she told him. Elliot came out of their victim’s room then, and Olivia gestured towards him. 

“Rafael Barba, Elliot Stabler, my partner. Elliot, Rafael Barba. My boyfriend,” she said, “I’m going to go change. Behave,” she glared at Elliot for a second. 

“So you’re the mystery man. ADA Rafael Barba,” Elliot said, sitting down, gesturing to the chair next to his. 

“Mystery man?” 

“I’ve known she’s been seeing someone for months now. She wouldn’t say anything about it. Made me realize she was serious. Otherwise she’d have told me just to make me shut up.” 

“Why do you care so much?” Rafael asked. 

“Liv’s been my partner nearly three years now. She’s had it rough. It’s been nice to see her happy outside of work, finally. Long as you continue to treat her like she deserves, you and I won’t have any problems.”

“I have no intentions other than treating her like she’s the most important person in my life. Because she is,” he said. Elliot nodded, and looked up as his partner strode down the hallway, wearing jeans and a navy blue and white striped v neck t shirt. 

“Thanks Rafa,” she said. He held his hand out for the tote. 

“No need for another hospital bed then?” Olivia asked, looking them both over. 

“No,” Elliot said, ‘Told you so.”

“Hah. Whatever. So, back to the house?” 

Elliot sighed, “Yeah. We need to stay on top of those lazy bastards at MisPer. Look through social media ourselves, and see if that security footage came in from the club.”

Olivia sighed but nodded, and turned to Rafael, “Well, that’s probably me for the evening.” 

“Unless we get lucky and get a hit on MisPer,” Elliot interrupted. 

“And you know what the chances of that are,” she said to her boyfriend, as Elliot walked down the hall ahead of them a little. 

“Is this you telling me to go home?” Rafael asked. 

“This is me telling you I’ll understand if you want to,” she corrected. 

“Nah. I’ll go back to your place. Maybe cook something for dinner?”

“Mmmm. Sounds perfect. See you soon, hopefully. I love you.”  
“Love you too,” he kissed her, aiming for her cheek, but Olivia turned, catching him on the lips, smiling at the surprised look on his face. 

“Be safe,” he told her, squeezing her hand as he let her go.


End file.
